Always on your side
by Black Charity
Summary: Sequel to Fall to Pieces. Will and Elizabeth meet again on the beach three years after their reunion on Elizabeth's 16th birthday. Confusion abounds. How do they really feel about each other? Based on a song with the same title. Rated T for safety reasons


**Disclaimer: **yeah, don't own these people, and never will...just in my wishful thoughts am i affiliated with disney/bruckheimer and have rights to these guys.

Always on your side

Elizabeth sighed. It was her nineteenth birthday. She hadn't seen Will since that fateful day three years ago. Her sweet sixteenth, when they were reunited again. Oh, to be sure, she'd heard of how the blacksmith's work had suddenly improved since Mr. Brown had taken on Will as an apprentice. It was Will's doing, she was sure of it. But not a word from him on how he was doing, not smile from the smithy's doorway when she walked by. He didn't even seem to exist. Maybe she had been wrong in trying to rekindle their old friendship. Will was a different person now, he had responsibilities, a trade. He was right. She should forget him.

But she couldn't.

She stared out the window, watching the stars come out. It was yet another glorious summer evening, and all she could really wonder is how to let Will go. From the day they hauled him out of the sea, she'd nursed a soft spot for him. But it was only recently, if her sixteenth birthday could be called recent, that it had developed into something more.

She missed him terribly - being able to talk to him, to giggle as she told him of her girlish fantasies about pirates. It was lonely now, with no one but her father for company. More and more often, she was finding her friends silly, superficial creatures. Empty-headed, not really caring beyond a man's wallet. So shallow. Everytime she was with them, she got impatient as they endlessly discussed fashion and how tiny they wanted their waists to be. Whenever she felt like just slapping one of them across the face, she would remember the pride in her father's eyes. To him, she was finally becoming a fine lady. For him, she would keep up the pretenses. But her mind was elsewhere. With Will, in the sun-filled days of their past.

(flashback)

"Will!" she cried impatiently, her childish voice shrill with annoyance. "Come out and play! We're all waiting for you!"

The bushes rustled slightly and the foliage parted to reveal the face of a very nervous twelve year old boy. "No!" he hissed back. "They don't want to play with me, Lizzie! I'm the blacksmith's apprentice!"

Elizabeth pouted and stamped her foot. "I don't care and neither should they! I'm the governor's daughter, so they have to let you play! Now come _on!" _She stuck out her bottom lip more and said in whiny tone, "_Pleeeease?"_

Will hesitated, but slowly emerged from the bush. "They were laughing at me, Beth. They were making fun of my clothes and saying I was dirty. I just wanted to play as well; but they didn't want me to, Liz. That's why I hid. I didn't want to leave, but they didn't want me to stay."

Elizabeth frowned. "They're meanies anyway. Don't tell them, but I only play with them because my father says I have to. I don't like them at all." She offered him a hand. "Come on, Will!" she said. "If the governor's daughter _and _hostess says you're going to play, then they can't do anything about it. And if they try," Elizabeth tried her best to glower and put on what she imagined a fearsome pirate's face looked like, "then I'll make them walk the plank!!" she bellowed. She brandished an invisible cutlass and then stuck out a hand again. "Coming?"

Will looked at his own grubby hands in comparison to her immaculate ones. "I don't know - "

"Good!" interrupted Elizabeth, seizing his hand. "Let's go then!" They headed back to the others, busy trying to decide who was going to be forced to play the pirate and who got to be the navy men.

A little boy with an upturned nose - who strongly reminded Elizabeth of a pig - looked up from the minor tussle he was engaged in to see Will and Elizabeth walking back towards them hand in hand.

"Ooooo!!!" he shrieked, pointing a chubby finger at the pair. "Elizabeth's in love with the blacksmith's boy!!!"

The others, equally stuck-up and stupid, began to taunt them in loud obnoxious voices. "Lizzie and William sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marria - "

"SHUT UP!!!" Elizabeth screamed in a most unladylike fashion. They did so, shocked to have been so brutally chastised - they were never yelled at when they misbehaved at home. Elizabeth glowered down at them, pulling her hand out of Will's grasp. She put her hands on her hips and stood with her feet apart, imagining the pose a conquering pirate captain would take.

"How **_dare_** you!!" she snarled. They cringed at the contempt in her voice. "You are nothing more than a bunch of **_hens_! **You are at _my_ house and if_ I _say Will is going to play then he _**will**. _And if anyone has got something to say about that," she glared at every one of them in turn, making them shame-facedly avert their eyes, "then they are gonna _get it_."

None of them dared to say a word. Elizabeth surveyed her defeated enemies and did not see the look on Will's face. Only he had seen Elizabeth's father watching the scene unfold with extreme disapproval. Will knew that after the company had left, Elizabeth was the one who was going to "get it." And it was all his fault too.

Elizabeth turned, her eyes sparkling with mischief as her cowed guests returned to their game, if very much subdued. "Come on, Will!" she said happily, walking towards him. "You can play now. We can be pirates together if you want."

But Will was backing away from her, shaking his head. "No, miss," he said. He very nearly lost his resolve when he saw the look of hurt on her face. She hated it when he called her "miss." "I'm sorry," he continued, "But I don't think your father would want you to be treating your guests like that, especially on my behalf."

"Will - "

"I'll just be going now, miss. Thank you for inviting me." With that, he spun about and ran for the gates as fast as his legs could take him.

"Will!" Elizabeth yelled, starting after him. But her feet became entangled in her long, cumbersome skirts and she fell, raising a cloud of dust from the parched soil. She sat up again, her chin smarting and blood running down her arm from a gash on her elbow. She looked towards the gate, watching Will disappear into the distance. She didn't understand. The pounding in her head was enveloped by the enormous question of _Why? _The mocking laughter reached her at last, and was the final straw. Tears ran began to run silently down her face, to drip onto the bloodstained dirt. Blood from her elbow, blood from her heart. **_Why? _**

(end flashback)

Elizabeth turned away from the window to stop herself from remembering anymore. That was the day when her father had told her she was to become a young lady, and young ladies never ran around in the sun yelling like wild things. Especially not with the blacksmith's apprentice.

The blacksmith's apprentice. Will. She sighed, and twiddled the hoop earring around her finger. She never wore it in her ear, where it should have gone. Will had the other one - he had forgotten to return it on the night of her sixteenth birthday. Or maybe... Deep down, she allowed herself to hope that perhaps he had not forgotten to return it, but had kept it in promise of something greater than a childhood friendship.

---

Will blinked furiously as a trickle of sweat ran into his left eye. Both his hands were occupied, otherwise he would have wiped it away. The metal was reaching crucial heating point - if he took his eyes off it for a minute, it would get too hot and he'd have to start the painstaking process all over again. For at least the seventh time today.

He would not think about her. Not again. She was distracting him from his work. From the very trade that kept him alive, put the clothes on his back and the bread in his mouth. He could not afford to keep thinking about her. Not when the sword was so close to being completed. But it was difficult when, in his heart, he _wanted_ to think about her. To be distracted by her. And now, on her nineteenth birthday, he wanted to see her more than ever.

Will's thoughts drifted to that glorious day three years ago when the honey-haired angel of his childhood came uncertainly back through the smithy's door. How he wished they had been able to spend more time together. Just that short time on the beach, she'd made him forget all of society's rules and restrictions. It had been exactly the way it was when they were too young to care about propriety. Their moment of heaven on that beach had been so fleeting, but even that small amount of time was enough for him to see.

He loved her with all his heart, but would never be able to tell her. If she loved him back, her family's reputation would be ruined. And if she married him - God forbid, no matter how much he cared for her and longed for her - then she would be dragged down to live an impoverished life with him for the rest of her days. He didn't want that kind of life for her. He looked back on the fond memory of their "marriage" in her attic. He had hoped, with all of his ignorant twelve year old heart, that one day he would be slipping a real ring onto her finger, not just a hoop earring. How innocent they had been, how naive. He saw now, with agonizing dispair, that their union could never be.

Will swore loudly. The metal was far too hot now. Once again, Elizabeth Swann had made him lose his concentration.

Will stuck his futile attempts at a new sword into the cooling barrel, leaning away from the steam as the red-hot metal hissed. He wandered through the forge to the door and opened it, grateful for the cool sea breeze on his sweaty skin. Elizabeth, when they were growing up, had always seen him as her faithful companion. The one who would stick with her to the end, even if he was a bit uncertain about the paths they took to get there. He could no longer be that person, no matter how much he wanted to. "Nothing's changed, Will. _YOU_ have." Elizabeth had hurled those words out at him last time they had met. _And the worst part is_, thought Will, _is that she's right. I have changed._

He was certainly not the same boy Elizabeth remembered. But he was not entirely someone else either. If she went gallavanting out after pirates, he'd follow her, even if it was just to see that no harm befell her. But other than that, he was only the humble, lowly blacksmith's apprentice. And he could never be more than that for her. He couldn't court her; he was not of her social status. He couldn't marry her; he was not wealthy enough to support her, even if she would accept him. He could only love her from afar, never being able to tell her how he felt. He avoided her, in case she loved him back, or grew to love him. He didn't want their distance to be bridged, because of the pain it would cause them both. And the hurt in her eyes each time he distanced her was almost too much bear. But he would, because he loved her.

How Will wished there was someplace he could take Elizabeth, someplace where they could be alone. Away from society, restrictions... How easy it would be, so simple. They would be free. If only they could, if only that place existed... But Will knew it didn't. Just as he knew, deep in his heart, that even if he searched for a thousand years there would never be another. Elizabeth would be the only one for him. He was dooming himself to live alone forever, watching Elizabeth live and love from afar. But, deep in his heart, he knew that the world was meant to be different. That, if he was brave enough, he could be with Elizabeth and they could be happy.

---

Elizabeth held her breath as the servant hurried past. She ducked into the deeper recesses of the shadows and peeked out from around the column. No one was in sight. Moving silently to the door, she slipped out and entered the night. She didn't care how Will seemed to be acting, what her heart was telling not to do. She was going to see him, maybe the for the last time. She had to. She had to know: did he ever love her, or was it all just part of their childhood games?

Elizabeth hurried down the path, pulling the shawl tighter around herself. She looked up as the moon slid out from behind a cloud. It was only half full, but it illuminated her surroundings well enough for her to see fairly well. She stared up at the stars, glimmering faintly in the vast indigo sky. For a moment, she took comfort in their presence - it was as if they were shining for her, encouraging her to continue on her quest. But then an encroaching cloudfront slowly moved across to cover their twinkling lights, and within a few moments the sky was covered in a white blanket of cloud. Elizabeth sighed, and, bending her head, increased her pace.

She wasn't even sure if Will was going to be there. It was after work hours, and most of the apprentices went out to the dockside taverns with their friends. And it had been three years since she had last seen Will... the taverns were notorious for having regular attendance of ladies of ill-repute. Will had no doubt frequented these taverns looking for their paid company. It stung to think of him with another woman, but after all, it wasn't as if she could expect him to come to her looking for solace on a lonely night. She would have gladly given it, but society dictated otherwise.

Elizabeth continued into the night, her feet crunching softly on the gravel-strewn path. She wrapped her shawl more securely around her shoulders, wishing that the woolly piece of fabric was something slightly more substantial.

Will. Those snatched moments on the beach, three years ago, just weren't enough. She wanted to be back in his arms again. But it seemed that every time she tried to bring him closer to her, he found some reason to slip away.

Why was happiness so elusive? Was it really so hard for him to love her? He was breaking her heart. Slowly, piece by angonizing piece, but he was. There were times when she wished she could just forget him, if only to stop the relentless ache in the center of her chest.

In her darkest moments, when she stayed up late clutching her pillow and whispering silent prayers to the night, she just wanted to be rid of it all. Both of them were bound into the rigid society that had made them what they were. Each was laden with their own responsibilities. Will, just to survive. And her, to find a good husband. Or rather, a socially accepted spouse.

Unfortunately, the only man she could even consider was Will. Definitely not acceptable - as a long and painful history of childhood segregation had proved to them both. It seemed that Will had given up on them. She hadn't. If only she could be free to love as she chose...if she was truly free, she would run and run and run until she was far away from here. Run - hand in hand with Will.

Elizabeth was nearing the smithy - and therefore the docks as well. She had taken to heart what Will had told her... _"It's not safe near the docks at night..."_ She didn't doubt him. There were always ships coming into port, each of them carrying full crews of men ready for the comforts of alcohol and a woman's flesh. But when drunk even the most honorable sailor can't always tell the difference betweena working girl and a lost one.

She had just reached the alley that would lead directly to the smithy when loud, drunken laughter echoed sinisterly off the walls towards her. Nervously, she backed up and headed back the way she had come. She'd take a different route to the smithy.

Elizabeth was actually in sight of the blacksmith's shop when she encountered her first drunk.

"Hey there pretty," he slurred, stretching a grimy hand out towards her.

Acting on pure instinct, Elizabeth grabbed the hand and flung him headfirst into the nearest wall. She backed away from his crumpled and unconscious form, feeling seriously smug. But she wasn't watching where she was going and ran straight into the second drunk coming up from behind her.

Unfortunately for her, he was about two feet taller than her and so bristling with muscles that he was roughly as wide as he was tall. He reeked of spilled ale and vomit. His face was beetroot red and he was almost cross-eyed from the drink. Needless to say, Elizabeth was going to have problems bashing his head against a wall.

Before she could react, he had both of her hands pinned in a single-handed grip and had her backed up. And this time, it was her who was crushed up against the wall.

He covered her mouth with his other hand and leaned in uncomfortably close to her face.

"Are we gonna warm the cockles of ol' Tom's heart t'nite, eh, missie? No one's gonna er ye scream..."

She nearly gagged on his foul breath, but couldn't get enough air to throw up properly. Drunk, he was slowly and obliviously suffocating her. Fear sent adrenalin shooting through her limbs, but her violent struggles made him only tighten his grip. Her shawl had slipped off her shoulders in the one-sided tussle, exposing her neck and part of her shoulders and chest. He ground his face into her neck, his beard stubble like sandpaper on her skin. The world was starting to break out in black spots when her survival instincts kicked in.

She lashed out with her feet, missing her intended target but hitting close enough to the mark that he let go of her to clutch himself in pain. She dropped a couple of feet or so to the ground, landing awkwardly on her ankle. It wasn't sprained, but it hurt enough that she was loathe to put weight on it. Elizabeth hobbled away as fast as she could, re-settling the shawl around her shoulders. Keeping her eyes fixed on the distant smithy, she gritted her teeth each time her foot hit the ground. But it was getting better with every step.

Suddenly there was a growl from the man behind her and she looked behind her only to see him start to charge. She struggled to go faster, but her gimpy ankle was just not up to the strain. She screamed when he tackled her to the ground, her head meeting the cobbles hard enough to make her see stars. When he had her hands pinned, the stars chose that inconvienient moment to disappear. Realizing what was about to happen to her, she tried to get a knee up into his belly. Just as she had managed to get her leg halfway there, a dark streak blotted out the night sky. The drunk went flying.

As he lay there groaning, Elizabeth tried to discreetly slip away from both of the men. But the second stepped towards her, into the light. Momentary panic seized her before she realized it was -

"Will!" she cried in surprise.

"Are you hurt? Did he - "

"No, no I'm fine - what are you doing here? I was coming to see you and - "

"I could ask you the same question," Will replied, helping her to her feet, tugging the shawl back up over her shoulders. "It's the middle of the night, Liz! It's dangerous around here at night - what were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Or at the very least, seriously inj - "

He glanced over at the drunk, who was struggling to his feet, oblivious that the object of his lust was no longer alone. "C'mon," said Will, not taking his eyes off the man, "we'd better get out of here before he actually manages to stand up." He put an arm around her and hurried them towards the darkened smithy.

As Will locked the door behind them, Elizabeth walked towards the forges. Even at this hour, they were still burning, in preparation for the morrow's work. She stared blankly into the embers, still feeling slightly numb from her rough experience. She didn't notice Will was standing behind her until he gently touched her shoulder, concern filling his eyes.

She smiled up at him before resuming her observation of the coals. This wasn't how she had wanted this to turn out. She had wanted to waltz confidently into the smithy, flush with her daring of coming to see him at this hour of the night. She had wanted to show him what he was missing, and maybe, just maybe, he would have realized what a fool he was being. But that was all out the window. It was becoming clearer to her with every passing minute - he didn't want her. He was just a concerned friend, and that was all he would ever be. Elizabeth sighed. Maybe she was meant to be alone, left forever dreaming of what could have been.

Will left Elizabeth to her own thoughts. He went to the water barrel, and then stopped to look back over his shoulder. Elizabeth was surrounded in a halo of firelight, glowing in a blaze of heat and flame. The light outlined her profile, sending sparks shining across her amber eyes - eyes that would never hold more than the faded wisp of a childhood friendship. He closed his eyes against the image and turned away. This was a chance meeting - nothing more. But she had said she was coming to see him...

No. He had to stop this foolery. He was only setting himself up to get hurt. He didn't know why she was coming to see him. Perhaps she was coming to tell him never to see her again. Or to tell him she was getting engaged. With a sinking heart, Will realized that, in all probability, that was what she had to tell him. She was coming to tell him so that he would leave her alone. So she could pursue her own avenue of happiness. Will swallowed the bitterness forming a hard lump in his throat. It was ironic - she had been the one who had insisted on their childhood attic "marriage", and had said she didn't want to marry Norrington. And now that was what she was coming to tell him. Will fruitlessly racked his mind for any other reason for her visit and came up empty handed. He resigned himself to the facts and prepared to fake happiness. But how could he be happy when all he wanted was to ask for her hand in marriage? How could he be content with another man taking over what, a long time ago, had been his place? This was wrong. It didn't feel right and could never feel right, no matter how much he kidded himself.

"Will."

Elizabeth's voice nearly made him flinch. This was it. This was the moment he had been dreading. He forced a himself to look cheerful and turned to face her. "Yes?" he replied, but even to his ears it sounded fake and too bright.

To his relief, Elizabeth didn't notice his strained expression, nor his false happiness. She instead pulled her shawl more tightly around herself and shivered slightly. She hugged herself and rubbed shaking hands up and down her arms. "I need to get out of here - I need to get away from..._them._"

Will suddenly noticed the faint sounds of late night carousers leaking in from behind the closed shutters. He dropped the fake expression and understanding flooded his features. "Still feeling a bit shaky?"

Elizabeth ran her hand over the back of her head and winced. "Yeah. I want to get as far away from them as possible. Is there a way to get to the beach from here without running into any more...sailors?"

Trying to hide his smile - she still wanted to go to their beach! - Will walked across the smithy and hesitantly put an arm around her shoulders. When she didn't shrug him off and only looked up at him expectantly, he took a deep breath and said, "I think I can manage that."

As they stepped out into the night, Will tried not to think too hard about the arm around his waist, the head resting against him. Tried not to think about the woman they belonged to. If only he could hold her like this for always. If only she didn't have to marry someone who was "respectable." He swallowed, and continued moving through the darkened streets of Port Royal. Whenever there was any sort of noise resembling a drunk, Elizabeth jumped and involuntarily held him closer. He resisted the urge to lead them past the back of one of the taverns. If only life was that easy. If only love was that easy. Will wished there was an easy way for them to be together. But, as he had surmised, that wasn't going to be possible.

When they finally made it too the beach, Elizabeth paused long enough to take off her shoes and than she pulled away from Will to run down the expanse of sand. Will watched her as she ran, sensing that this was not a time to take off after her. She needed to be alone, and he had every intention to respect that. He paused, watching the white-crested waves wash in, depositing shells and taking the sand. He bent and picked one of the shells up, tossed it and the caught it in his hand. He looked down at it, a beautiful white scallop with a rosy underside. Will tried to surpress the hurt and bitterness, but the emotions rose up in the back of his throat, stinging like the acidic taste of bile. When they were younger, he and Elizabeth had come here many a time looking for these. Now that he had finally found a perfect one, the girl he would have shared it with was gone - replaced with a creature of high society, all prim and proper and lace and trimmings. She would not appreciate the simple beauty he held in his hand. Will closed his hand in a fist, completely engulfing the delicate shell. Sorrow tightened his grip, until the tiny scallop shattered into jagged pieces.

Will felt the sharp edges of the broken shell dig into his skin. He smiled wryly, and only squeezed the remnants of the seashell harder. He felt the pieces scrape, then pierce his hand. Keeping his grip firm, Will slowly continued down the beach to where Elizabeth now sat. Physical pain he could deal with. It prepared him for the emotional agony he was about to hear.

Elizabeth leaned against the palm tree, catching her breath. She didn't know why she was still here. It was blindingly clear that Will could barely tolerate her. Back at the smithy, when she had asked to go to the beach, his cheeriness was all fake, all forced. He hadn't just stopped being her friend, he probably hated her. He couldn't stand being with her. That arm around her had probably just been for her sake - so that she wouldn't be crushed by his complete and total rejection. But it was too late for that. Her heart was already cut and bleeding. Tears began to well up in her eyes. Why didn't he just come out and say it, instead of leaving her suspended in anguish, not knowing if what she was reading into this was the right impression or not?

When Will was close enough that she could hear his footsteps in the sand, Elizabeth wiped the tears from her face and stared out to sea. She didn't want him to see her cry. She didn't need his false sympathy. It was better to put on a strong front - that way when he finally said it, she could walk away from here with something resembling dignity.

Will stopped several paces away from her and waited for her to speak. She was the one who had sought him out, so she was going to be the one who started this conversation. He could feel blood from the cuts on his palm start to ooze down the back of his hand. But still Elizabeth did not speak. When he could take it no more, he said in a rough voice, "Why don't you just tell me and put me out of my misery?"

Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise. "Tell you what?"

"What you came to see me for. Who you're engaged to. You're getting married, aren't you?" Will hated the helplessness in his voice, but couldn't do anything to keep it out. That was how he felt. There was no hiding it anymore.

"I - What?!" cried Elizabeth incredulously. "Where did you hear that?"

"It's been three years, Miss Swann, and that Norrington is very persistant."

"My name is Elizabeth," she replied coldly. "And no, I'm not getting married, engaged, or anything of the matrimonial sort. I'm not even courting anyone, much less Norrington. For God's sake Will, I've know the man since I was eleven years old - do really think there is any conceivable way I could consider marrying someone who is like my older brother?"

Will looked at her blankly. Then what she was saying sank in. She wasn't getting married. He still had a chance. He didn't care that she was angry, that she thought he was insane. Elizabeth was still wonderfully, gloriously single.

"Why do you care anyway?" The hurt in her voice stopped his inward rejoicing. "It's not like I really matter to you. We stopped being friends long ago; why should I still matter? I don't even know why I came to see you. It's clear you couldn't give two pence for me. I was foolish to think that there would be anything left between us. I should go."

Elizabeth rose and tried to dash past Will, but he caught her by the arm. Keeping his bloodied hand well away from her, he looked into her eyes, genuinely confused. "Why do you think you mean nothing to me?"

"Be-because - " Elizabeth could barely get the words out through the tears. "You've been so c-cruel to me. Y-you _pretended_ to be happy to see me when we w-were back in the s-smithy. A-and it's been three y-years. You n-never _once_ tried to come an-and see me, and you n-never said h-hello when I w-was in town. W-what was I s-supposed to think?"

Will closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were filled with pained understanding. "I was cruel and I pretended to be happy because I thought you were getting married. Not because you mean nothing to me. I - I didn't want to get my hopes up only to have you dash them when you told me that you were engaged. That's why I was so distant. And I never came to see you because Mr. Brown's a drunken fool - the only reason the shop's still running is because I'm working as hard as I can. I never had any time to stop and say hello while you were in town, much less come and see you. I'm sorry. I didn't think that you would take it like this...I thought that your sixteenth birthday would be proof enough that you mean more than nothing to me. Liz..." he trailed off, searching for the right words to say. "You're the reason I get up in the morning. You're why I keep the forge going, even though I don't know how to do make some of the things the customers ask for. I keep telling myself to keep going, so that maybe someday I'll have enough money to start my own business. And with that business, perhaps will come enough respect to be worthy of you. You mean far more than nothing to me, Elizabeth Swann. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise, because that would be a lie."

Elizabeth looked up at him through glistening eyes. She took one deep shuddering breath, and then threw her arms around him in a crushing hug. Will paused momentarily, overwhelmed at her reaction. He then returned her embrace one-handedly, the crushed scallop still clenched in his fist. They stayed like that for several minutes, lulled by the repetitive sounds of the surf. When she finally pulled away, she was smiling through the remnants of her tears.

"Will - " she reached for his hand.

Quickly he yanked it away, not wanting to get blood on her white nightdress. Dirt she could explain in the morning, but blood? He didn't think so.

Elizabeth's face fell. Hurt and doubt filled her eyes. She dropped her still outstretched hand and lowered her head. Then she caught sight of the blood dripping off the back of his hand and cried, "Will! What happened?"

He tried to pull his hand back, but she was too quick and caught ahold of his wrist. "It's nothing," he grunted, trying to wrest his hand from her grasp. He didn't pull to hard because, in truth, he didn't want her to ever let go. Pride made him try to escape.

Elizabeth swatted him and he stopped. "I'm not going to cut it off, Will; I just want to look at it." She gently opened his fist and gasped. Even he winced at the sight of his bloodied palm.

"Will what on earth did you do to yourself? It looks like you - well, grabbed a seashell and crushed it!"

Will grimaced and started picking bits of shell out of his hand. "That's pretty much what I did, actually. Don't know why exactly. It seemed like a good idea at the time. OW!" Elizabeth stepped forward anxiously, but Will waved her back. "I think that was the last of it. Would like to inspect it, or will you trust my eyesight?"

"I'll inspect it anyway, despite the faith I have in your eyesight, thank you very much!" Elizabeth held out an imperious hand.

Will sighed and extended his arm. "Women," he muttered.

After a cursory examination, Elizabeth bent and struggled to rip the hem of her nightdress. Will went to stop her - it would be yet one more thing to explain in the morning - but there was a rending sound as she managed to tear the thin fabric. When she had shortened the hem all the way around by about two inches, she straightened and started wrapping his hand in a businesslike manner. Will, sensing that it would be futile to tell her that he could do it himself, just stood there.

"There," she said, tying of the makeshift bandage. "That should do. Don't do that again - it's bad enough sitting in that house all day embroidering without worrying about you doing something stupid."

Will stepped in closer to her, narrowing the distance between them to a few handspans. Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat, and she involutarily tried to take a step back. Will's hand stopped her mid-step, resting on her lower back. "I won't do anything stupid," Will whispered, his breath brushing her cheek. Elizabeth shut her eyes and swallowed as he ran a hand over her cheek. "I promise."

Elizabeth kept her eyes firmly closed as she tried to control the delicious heat that was flooding her limbs. But when she felt his lips brush her cheek, her eyes popped open and she stepped back with a gasp.

"I'm sorry!" exclaimed Will. He wrung his hands. "I thought - I never meant - I won't do it again, miss. I - "

Elizabeth took a step forward and shushed him with a finger on his lips. "You startled me, is all. I wasn't expecting it. But Will - " she hesitantly wrapped an arm around his waist, "I don't want you to kiss me like that."

Will looked at her confusedly, not knowing whether to believe the arm around him or her words. "What do you mean?"

"Three years ago, you walked me home from this very beach, Mr. Turner," Elizabeth's face was inches from his. The moist warmth of her breath was doing terrible things to his composure. "And when we reached my door," she continued, "You were about to kiss me. And if I recall, we were rudely interrupted. So, if you don't mind, I'd like that kiss now, my dear William."

"Oh," said Will just as softly as she. "I believe I know what you're talking about. Was it anything like this?"

Will wrapped an arm around her lower back, pulling her flush against him. The other ran its way up her shivering spine to cradle the back of her head. Elizabeth had one hand - the one that had been around his waist - curled up over his shoulder, and the other was resting comfortably on his back. He lowered his head until their lips were inches apart.

"Yes," murmured Elizabeth. "I think it was something like this."

Will smiled and then covered her mouth with his.

The kiss was closed-mouthed, but anything but chaste. Fire rushed through Elizabeth's veins, weakening and intoxicating her. His hand moved upwards slightly, letting his fingers tangle in her hair. She could feel his muscles through the linen of his shirt, feel each heartbeat. She never wanted him to let her go. When they finally came up, gasping for air, Elizabeth was dizzy and feeling slightly light-headed. And when he didn't let her go, but hugged her close, running a trembling hand up and down her back, she knew that she would never want to kiss any other man. Some part of her had always known, but it had taken her seven years and two seaside meetings for her to realize it. From just a boy to a childhood friend to a distant acquaintance to the only one she would ever want to be with. Time had funny ways of changing how you saw somebody. But now, Elizabeth knew, no matter what twists and turns time took after tonight, nothing was going to keep them apart. Not now, not ever. And that was how it should have been from the beginning. And that was how it was going to be now.

When he had finally gotten his breathing back under control, Will rested his cheek against the top of Elizabeth's head, staring out to the moonlit sea. After three years of uncertainty, there was no more doubt. No matter what her father said, no matter how hard it would be for them to live off his measly wages, he was going to marry Elizabeth. He could see it all now. He would wait a few more years until he had saved a bit more money, all the while gradually reinsinuating himself back into her life. Once her father had gotten used to him, had come to see him as a suitable husband for Elizabeth, he would propose. And then everything would finally be perfect.

Will and Elizabeth sighed in unison. Elizabeth laughed softly and looked up at him. He smiled, loathe to shatter the moment, but he knew that dawn was only a few hours away. Elizabeth needed to be getting home.

Elizabeth saw the slight shift in his eyes and smiled wryly. "I should be getting home, shouldn't I?"

Will nodded sadly and they started their slow walk back to the town, each with an arm wrapped possessively around the other. Love had been lost, found, and rekindled on this beach. And both Will and Elizabeth looked forward to their next tryst on its peaceful, sandy shores.

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A/N: yay!! im sorry that i couldn't include the lyrics, but yeah, i didn't want to get it deleted. oh, and i have NO idea what the heck happened in the will/seashell paragraph - he like suddenly gets cutterlike tendecies. but i left it in there because i'm sure that there's some good symbolism behind it, i just have no clue what it is. if you can figure out what it means, by all means tell me!!!! how do you put stars in? i want to put those in instead of telling you when there's a flashback, but they never stay. so annoying!! read and review!! sequel to this is forthcoming!


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